A Soulmate's Memories
by blackwolf1087
Summary: One-shots of Haikyuu soulmate pairings. As they grow up, everyone receives random memories from their soulmate, short clips that point toward the one person fate says will match them best.
1. Kuroo is ridiculous & Tsukki is doomed

Obviously, I own none of the rights to these characters. Those belong to Haruichi Furudate, along with whatever publishers, producers, etc., are involved with both series.

* * *

Kei rubbed at his eyes in frustration, trying to clear the latest scene out of his head.

The memories always came at the most inconvenient times. They were supposed to be fate's mysterious way to help people find their perfect match, but in reality they were little more than a nuisance.

He tried to focus his attention back on his quiz.

There was no way this idiot was his soulmate.

The first memory Kei had even seen was his "soulmate" riding his bike—purposefully—into a ditch and wrecking it dramatically. Something about testing the validity of an adrenalin rush.

The second one had been of a volleyball.

And that _wasn't_ the reason he'd started playing the sport. He played because his brother bugged him into starting. Because it would look good on college applications. That was it.

Only when he'd finished the quiz did Kei allow his mind to drift back to the latest memory he'd witnessed.

Kuro (at least that was what his friend called him) had been about ten years old this time, judging from the fact that his best friend (a shy boy named Kenma who loved video games and was _always_ in the memories) had appeared that age. Kenma had been pouting about something and giving Kei's soulmate the silent treatment, though Kei never found out why.

The memories weren't always helpful.

Kei had never seen a picture of his soulmate in the memories. Some people were lucky and got glimpses in puddles or a mirror or window or something, but Kei hadn't. He knew his soulmate was tall, a boy, and had a nice voice, not that he would ever admit that last part aloud. Sometimes it sounded like others called him Kuroo, not Kuro, but it was difficult to tell since the memories were always so quick.

Regardless, there hadn't been any new information in this memory.

Not that Kei kept track of the information.

Akiteru and Yamaguchi just pestered him about details sometimes, that was all.

Kei stretched as the bell rang, marking the end of class and the beginning of Golden Week. Around him his classmates cheered. They rushed about, shoving books in bags and darting out the door as fast as they could.

Kei took his time. It wasn't like he could head home, anyway. He had volleyball practice.

The idiots were all excited about their week-long training camp and the practice match at the end. Kei was just interested in seeing how having a coach would change their practices.

"Tsukki!" Yamaguchi appeared in the classroom doorway, grinning and out of breath. Apparently he had run from his classroom, despite the lack of need for rush. Kei sighed and picked up his bag.

"There was no need to run here."

"Gomen, Tsukki." Yamaguchi scratched his nose sheepishly, "But it's Golden Week! Aren't you excited?"

"We'll be practicing all week. What's there to be excited about?"

"No classes!" Yamaguchi grinned at him, then began to rattle on about his quiz had gone. Kei let his friend's voice wash over him as they walked toward practice, thankful that Yamaguchi rarely expected him to respond.

Practice was annoying, as always. His teammates were loud and obnoxious, constantly pushing themselves to ridiculous lengths. And the new coach was encouraging them.

The week passed by in an endless repetition of drills. Practice receiving, practice blocking, practice spiking. Be on a team with these players, now these players, next let's try this combination. Everyone was always sweating and exhausted by the end of the day, yet the obnoxious first year duo was always clamoring for more.

Kei ignored him as best he could.

The last day arrived far slower than he wished, but it thankfully _did_ arrive. Everyone was comically amped up for the Tokyo team's arrival.

When they did arrive, Kei swore his heart stopped beating.

Blonde hair with brown roots. In a volleyball uniform but hunched over a video game.

Kenma.

His soulmate's best friend was on the other team.

But his soulmate was on the same volleyball team as Kenma. They were always together. Always.

Which meant….Kei swallowed as his eyes travelled to the figure next to Kenma.

The tall boy looking straight at Yamaguchi.

Shit.

Kei's own memories had probably been filled with his friend.

This couldn't be happening. People didn't normally meet their soulmates in high school. And why was he so handsome? It was ridiculous. People shouldn't look that handsome. And who had hair like that? And who could make hair like that actually look _good_?

A strangled noise escaped his throat. In the corner of his eye he saw Yamaguchi turn to him in alarm.

No. Don't come over here. Then the boy—his soulmate—would know who Yamaguchi's best friend was. Who Kei was.

But Yamaguchi was coming, and Kei couldn't move his limbs. He was frozen in place.

His eyes met hazel ones. Hazel eyes with pupils like a cat's that were quickly widening in realization.

"Tsukki?" Yamaguchi was at his side, now. "Are you ok? You look really pale."

Kei whimpered. He would deny the noise forever, but he actually whimpered. Now Yamaguchi was looking really alarmed. "Tsukki, what's going on?"

Kei still couldn't tear his eyes off of the now rapidly approaching figure. The figure that came to a stop in front of them.

Yamaguchi gave the new boy a quick glance, his face firmed in some sort of protective resolve, "Gomen, thank you for coming all this way, but could you give us a minute, my friend—"

"I think I know what the problem is, Yamaguchi-san."

God, that voice.

Amusement flickered in his soulmate's eyes. A smirk spread across his face.

Yamaguchi was staring at the boy in confusion now. "How-how do you know my name?" Then realization appeared to dawn on him. "Wait. Are you-?"

"Gonna say anything, soulmate?" The boy stretched out his hand, "Kuroo Tetsurou, at your service."

Kei swallowed. He could do this. He reached out to take his hand. "Tsukishima Kei."

People always spoke romantically about the first time they touched their soulmate. About how everything just felt like it fell into place and that a part of them was whole and a bunch of other garbage clichés. He had laughed at that in the past.

Now he couldn't.

There really was no way to describe how Kuroo's hand felt in his, but Kei supposed the words 'safe' and 'warm' were about as close as he could get.

"You can let each other's hands go, now. Unless you plan on standing like that forever?"

Kei dropped Kuroo's hand as if it was on fire.

Kuroo let out a yelp, blushing slightly as he turned to face his best friend that had somehow appeared beside them. "Kenma!"

His soulmate was ridiculous. How could he appear so unruffled and confident one second and flustered the next?

It wasn't cute.

It wasn't.

Yamaguchi was giving him a knowing look. "Shut up, Yamaguchi."

The look turned into a grin, "Gomen, Tsukki. I'll go tell coach to give you a few minutes."

Kei's eyes widened, "I don't—" he growled in frustration at his friend's retreating back. He didn't need time to get to know his soulmate or whatever. They could just play the game.

He turned back to see Kuroo watching him, Kenma absorbed in his game a few steps away. "So…this is a thing. We're a thing." He smirked, "Can I have your number, handsome?"

"God, you are so stupid." The words left his mouth before Kei even registered them. He refused to blush. Who insulted their soulmate as the first thing they said to them? Well, besides his own name.

"Oi!" The other put a hand over his heart, gasping melodramatically, "I'm wounded! I'm in the college prep class, just so you know!"

"I _know_." That had been in a memory a few months ago. Recent memories were rare, but they did happen. "How you managed that, though, I have yet to determine."

"Haven't you ever heard of respecting your elders?"

What the heck? "You're only two years older than me."

"That's a long time! Like an eighth of your lifetime!"

"An eighth is hardly a large fraction."

Kuroo groaned, "I knew you'd be salty, but come on kid."

"And I knew you'd be ridiculous. Who purposefully runs across burning coals on a beach?"

"That was a bonding experience!" Arms were waving now. "Bo and I had a blast."

"You burned your feet."

"Worth it." He grinned suddenly, "Do your teammates know about your dinosaur collection? I bet they don't."

"Don't. You. Dare."

The grin turned speculative as Kuroo paused before responding, "Give me your number, then."

"Tch." Kei held out his hand and Kuroo triumphantly unlocked his cell phone and set the device in Kei's palm. "I would have given you it, no need to make it such a big deal." He quickly typed in the numbers, trying to ignore the fact that he was blushing. This was really happening. He was meeting his soulmate. Exchanging phone numbers.

It was so cliché he wanted to groan.

"Thanks, Tsukki."

Kei frowned, "Only Yamaguchi can call me that." His soulmate was smirking again. It felt weird seeing his face. He hadn't realized how much the other boy smirked, but it suited him.

"Kei, then?"

He shuddered, "No." Too familiar.

The smirk widened, "Hotaru-chan?"

" _God_ no." Of course his soulmate had witnessed one of those horrid mispronunciations of his name's kanji.

"Then Tsukki." Kuroo shrugged unrepentantly.

"You could just call me Tsukishima."

Kuroo waved his hand dismissively, "Too long. No can do."

Kei stared at his soulmate. Why did he have to be matched with someone so annoying? "You're ridiculous."

Kuroo just grinned, suddenly reaching forward to grab Kei's hand. Kei stiffened rapidly. "And you need to loosen up more. Volleyball should be helping with that! Come on, let's go! We've made them wait long enough."

"Why must you be like this?"

"Because it's fun! Kenma, come on, you too."

"Hai." The boy sighed, shoving his game into his pocket. "You're not going to be all annoying and flirting during the game, are you?"

Kuroo's smirk suddenly took on a dangerous edge. "Nah, I've got to kill his team and show this gangly crow how awesome I am." Kei swallowed at how attractive he looked.

"So you will be."

Kei was doomed.

* * *

A/n: I took a break from my long crossover to write this for KuroTsukki fluff week. Hope y'all enjoyed it! Comments and feedback are always appreciated :)


	2. Oikawa is a wreck and Kags is adorable

Obviously, I own none of the rights to Haikyuu. Those belong to Haruichi Furudate, along with whatever publishers, producers, etc., are involved with the series.

* * *

Oikawa frowned as the ball hit the ground once more.

It wasn't the same.

It was never the same.

He'd had another memory this morning. Another memory from his soulmate. Another memory of the perfect set leaving his fingertips with pinpoint accuracy…. It wasn't fair. His soulmate was younger than him. He shouldn't be better.

You never knew when you would get a memory, or what it would contain, but Oikawa had long ago discovered that there was really only one thing his soulmate ever did: volleyball. If the younger boy didn't have a volleyball in his hands, then he was doodling it on a paper, miming motions of plays, watching a game. If he wasn't doing _something_ involving volleyball, his soulmate was either bored out of his mind or angsty as hell.

Kageyama. The younger boy's last name and the fact that he was a better setter were really the only details Oikawa had. He was shorter, too, but since he was younger than wasn't really saying much.

"Tch."

He grabbed another ball from the bin.

Iwa-chan sighed across the room. "How long are you going to keep doing this, Oikawa?"

"Just one more."

"That's what you always say."

"How can he be so good, Iwa-chan! I'm his senpai! I should be the one who's better!"

His best friend sighed. "We've been over this, Oikawa. You're better than him at many things."

"I know." Oikawa threw the ball up in frustration, then jumped to send it sailing across the net as hard as he could. "I know that, but still. I'm a setter. It's annoying."

"Come on, classes start soon. Let's clean up. The new members will be at practice this afternoon, so that should help distract you."

Oikawa sighed, but let his best friend cajole him into cleaning up.

The only consolation Oikawa had was that if he ever met his soulmate across the net, Oikawa had no doubt that, as things stood now, he would beat the younger setter.

Kageyama may always be thinking about volleyball, but he was also always alone. He had no concept of teamwork.

Oikawa was determined to change that once they met. He would be a good senpai. He would train the boy to work with his team and all that control, all that precision and focus…. It would be _his._

Kageyama was _his_ soulmate, after all. Oikawa may not be able to replicate Kageyama's set, but that set was his all the same.

"Try to actually focus in your classes, Trashykawa."

"Rude, Iwa-chan. I always focus in class."

"Whatever you say." Iwaizumi whacked him lightly in the back of the head, then headed out of the gym.

Oikawa sighed. The gym was clean, now, but he still really did want to practice a bit more. Surely just five more minutes….

"Oikawa!" Iwaizumi poked his head back inside. "Come on. No more practice."

He stuck out his tongue. "So stubborn, Iwa-chan."

"Only because you're a brat. Come on."

"Hai, hai." Oikawa trudged after his friend in sulky silence.

The day was miserable. Any day with the memory of one of those sets was. His fingers just itched to try to replicate it in his own body.

But he never could.

Oikawa sighed and tried to focus. His mother was proud of his good grades. He shouldn't let himself get distracted. He had to maintain perfection. Model student, model athlete, model looks… perfection.

Just not the perfect set.

"Tch."

Perfect teammate, server, and captain, though. That would have to do.

When the final bell rang, Oikawa slipped through the girls wanting to chat with a simple, "Excuse me girls, but I really should be going. New first years in practice, you know? Maybe come watch?"

They had giggled and left with a chorus of goodbyes.

He changed quickly into practice clothes, then headed to the gym.

The new first years were all fairly tall, which was good. One, though…. He was adorable. Oikawa just wanted to pinch his cheeks. He had the prettiest dark blue eyes…

And his name was Kageyama. Kageyama Tobio. _That_ had shocked Oikawa. And the boy wanted to play setter. But it was just coincidence, right? Just coincidence. Surely there were lots of boys named Kageyama. Kageyamas that played volleyball. Kageyamas that were younger setters.

Kageyama Tobio watched both Oikawa and Iwaizumi sharply, but they were the captain and vice-captain. Of course the boy would be paying attention to them both.

Oikawa swallowed and tried to push those thoughts to the back of his head. He needed to watch the first years' practice match. See what they were good at.

And then Kageyama set. The boy played with that same razor-sharp focus and the ball flew through the air. It flew with that same accuracy and precision…

That set.

That perfect set.

Oikawa's clipboard clattered as it hit the gym floor.

"Oikawa?" Iwaizumi glanced at him sharply. There was concern in his voice.

Oikawa made no move to pick up the clipboard. He felt like he was going to throw up.

He wasn't ready.

He wasn't perfect yet. How dare his soulmate show up in middle school? Oikawa needed to be perfect for him! Needed to have a better set! Everything needed to be better.

Iwaizumi's hand was shaking his shoulder.

Those blue eyes were watching him, now. The spike had landed, and the younger setter was once again paying attention to things outside the court.

That ridiculous focus.

Oikawa swallowed. "I—I need a moment."

He fled.

He fled his captain duties and ran to the club room before collapsing against the wall.

He felt those blue eyes following him, watching his escape.

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't.

His arms clenched around his knees, nails digging into his skin.

"Trashykawa? What the hell is going on?"

The lights flipped on.

Iwaizume was in front of him, hands on both shoulders.

"Go back to the game, Iwa-chan."

"Hell no. What's going on?" There was a pause, then Iwaizume resumed speaking, choosing his words carefully, "You freaked out at the first year's set. Is he…?"

Oikawa gave a jerky nod.

"You're such a messed-up piece of shit."

"Rude!" Oikawa glared at his friend. How dare he insult him when he was having a breakdown?

"You just ran from your soulmate, you idiot."

"Ano…" the two of them froze, then slowly turned to the doorway.

Kageyama.

His soulmate.

"Sumimasen."

Iwaizumi sighed and stood up. "You two need to talk. I'm going to go explain things to the coaches."

"Iwa-chan! Don't leave!"

Iwaizumi glared at him, "The coaches need to know why the practice match was disturbed, and you two need to work things out in private."

"Arigatou." Kageyama bowed to the vice-captain, "Gomen nasai."

"Tch. At least you're more polite than this loser. Whatever." Iwaizumi walked past the first year and out the door.

Kageyama straightened, but still looked at the floor awkwardly. "Gomen, Oikawa senpai. I didn't know how to—"

"S-senpai?" Oikawa stared at the boy. His set was better. They both knew it, there was no way the boy hadn't seen Oikawa set in a memory.

The boy was blushing, though. "Hai. You're the best setter I know! I saw a game in your memories. How do you decide which spiker to use? I would have used someone else, but what you did worked so well! The blockers jumped where I would have set, and your spiker got through without any problem! And your serve! It's so strong-"

Oikawa grinned. Senpai. He let the continued praise wash over him. His soulmate respected him.

Well.

He could work with this.

-"And I saw your uniform in your memory, and I recognized it, and I just had to come here! I had to learn from you! So please, please teach me, senpai! I need to be a better setter!" Kageyama was bowing again, his whole body tense.

Oikawa slowly pulled himself up off the ground and to his full height.

"You're adorable, Tobio-chan."

His soulmate's head shot up, midnight blue eyes wide in surprise and a blush spreading across his cheeks. "To-tobio-chan?"

"Of course. You're my soulmate, so I'm hardly about to call you by your last name, my sweet kouhai."

"Kouhai? Then you'll teach me? Arigatou, Oikawa-senpai!"

Oikawa gasped in surprise as the younger boy's arms wrapped around him.

His body… it felt warm. So warm. He felt like everything had shifted and was centered on this boy. This boy that was currently trying to hug all of the breath out of his body just because Oikawa had promised to teach him.

Oikawa's arms wrapped around Kageyama. He would protect him. Protect his innocence and love for this sport. He would make this boy perfect, just like everything else.

After all, Tobio-chan was _his._

* * *

All feedback is much appreciated! Thank you!


	3. Teru is stupid & Futakuchi is protective

Obviously, I own none of the rights to this series. Those belong to Haruichi Furudate, along with whatever publishers, producers, etc., are involved with the series.

* * *

Futakuchi had long ago promised himself that he would never, ever do something this stupid. This cliché. That no matter what details he saw in his soulmate's memories, he wouldn't go find him. That he would let the meeting occur naturally.

Yet here he was, standing outside the Johzenji volleyball gym.

He'd seen a memory last year of his soulmate at the entrance ceremony for this high school. Seeing important events like those were rare, but he had.

He'd been annoyed at the time, but now he was glad for it.

All Futakuchi had to do was go inside and find the player with the tongue piercing (and thank goodness he had yet to see the memory of _that_ happening). The one named Terushima Yuuji.

Then he'd know his soulmate.

Futakuchi kicked a rock.

This whole thing was ridiculous. He shouldn't even be here.

His soulmate was going to be annoying. All boundless energy and mischief and insistence on having _fun._

It was great to have fun and mess with people, but life couldn't always be fun.

And his stupid soulmate knew it, no matter how much he played ignorant.

Which was why Futakuchi was here.

The memory he'd gotten last night had started with his soulmate's dad yelling, drunk and upset. The man had then tried to hit his wife, but Futakuchi's soulmate had intervened, taking the hit to protect his mother. The last thing in the memory had been his mother screaming his first name.

Yuuji.

Futakuchi hadn't known his first name before then.

The memory had been relatively recent, judging from the presence of the tongue piercing in his soulmate's mouth. But who knew how long stuff like this had happened? The memories soulmates saw were supposedly random.

Futakuchi had gone straight downstairs and talked to his own parents about the memory, and they'd agreed that Yuuji needed a place where he could escape for a night (or longer), if necessary.

So here he was.

About to offer his soulmate an escape.

About to offer him a place in Futakuchi's own house.

About to meet his soulmate on his own terms, when he had claimed that he'd never do so. That he'd leave it up to a chance encounter.

Futakuchi sighed and took the final few steps up to the gym door, then slid it open. He hadn't wanted to stick out, so he'd taken the time to change out of his Dateko uniform and into some plain exercise clothes, but he still expected to cause _some_ ruckus as a stranger interrupting practice.

No one glanced his way when the door opened.

No one stopped playing.

No coach or manager came over to see who he was.

Practice just… kept going. Most of the players were facing off in two-on-two matches, and those that weren't were watching avidly.

Futakuchi cautiously took a seat at the side of the gym—he could wait a bit for practice to end.

It certainly didn't take long to figure out which one was his soulmate.

"Terushima," after all, was yelled at quite frequently by the coach, despite being the team captain.

Futakuchi was entranced.

He'd never seen his soulmate's face.

His brown eyes were amazing, sparkling with the mischief and playfulness that Futakuchi had already come to expect.

But his hair…. His hair was ridiculous.

As were all of the weird jump maneuvers his soulmate performed, though they at least worked, most of the time. It certainly would make blocking him difficult.

He wanted to play against him.

Soon enough practice was over. Terushima turned cleaning up into a game, betting on who would pick up the most volleyballs, or on how fast they could take down the net or mop the floor.

Needless to say, the end result wasn't perfect, but it also didn't take long. The coach didn't seem to mind the missed spots, though, as he left soon after the team disappeared into the changing rooms.

Even now, no one paid Futakuchi any attention, which was confusing. Dateko would have interrogated him and kicked him out by now. Johzenji certainly was carefree.

When Terushima emerged again, now in a school uniform, Futakuchi nervously stood up.

Still the boy didn't notice him.

Futakuchi sighed in frustration and marched over to him, "Does your team really not care if rival players watch your entire practice?"

Terushima froze, then turned to look at him. Those eyes focused on him, and Futakuchi felt his mouth go dry.

"Why should it matter? It's not like we play the same way every game. We just do whatever is fun." Terushima grinned suddenly and Futakuchi felt his heart stutter. "Were you casing us, then? What school are you from?"

"Your team is hardly worth casing." Futakuchi rolled his eyes.

"Why not? We come up with lots of fun techniques."

That comment received a scoff, "Techniques that are unreliable aren't worth the effort."

"Jeez, man." Terushima shook his head, "Where's your sense of fun?"

Now Futakuchi frowned, "Hard work is just as important as having fun."

"Well, yeah. But the work should be fun." Terushima grinned, "Or are you just not good enough? You still haven't given me your school name."

"Dateko. I'm next year's captain."

"Eh?" His eyes narrowed briefly, but it was gone so quickly Futakuchi almost thought he imagined it. "You guys are actually pretty good. Boring, but good."

"We aren't boring!" Futakuchi glared at his soulmate. "Our iron wall makes us the best defensive team in the prefecture. It's amazing."

"Riiiight."

Futakuchi scowled at him, "I don't know why I'm even arguing with you. You clearly have no sense."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Your plays have no strategy behind them."

"We have fun! And we win a lot, so what does it matter?"

Futakuchi groaned. His soulmate wouldn't listen to reason on that front, apparently. His goal should be to beat _everyone_ not just have fun and win _most_ matches _._ In his annoyance, Futakuchi blurted out the first thing he'd thought upon seeing his soulmate, "Your hair looks like you're trying to imitate a hedgehog."

Oops. He'd been trying to control his snark since becoming captain.

"Oi!"

Well, he'd already started, so…. "Or maybe a porcupine?"

"What the heck, dude?" His soulmate puffed out his chest, "My hair is awesome! Way better than yours. Is that slant on purpose or did the hairstylist cut it that way in revenge for your insults?"

Futakuchi grinned. His soulmate was fine with snarkiness. Not only that, he would return it in kind. This would be fun.

"Oh please, _Yuuji._ " His grin widened as the boy's eyes grew large at hearing his own first name, "My hairstylist flirts with me nonstop. She loves me."

Terushima's head was cocked to the side, his mouth twisted in confusion. "Pretty sure I never told you my name, bro."

Futakuchi sighed, "There are other ways to know a name. You should know this by now."

His soulmate's grin returned and some of the tension left his shoulders, "Futakuchi, then?"

So he was capable of figuring things out. "Futakuchi Kenji." He grinned, "And definitely not your bro."

"Kenji." Futakuchi froze at the way his first name sounded in his soulmate's voice. He practically purred it.

Terushima stepped closer, a hairsbreadth from him, looking up at him with his chin jutted out defiantly. "Why are you here, Kenji? Your memories never made you seem like the kind of person to seek me out."

Well, he'd never been one to beat around the bush… "Your father hit you."

Futakuchi hated the alarm currently in his soulmate's eyes.

Terushima took a step back, silent. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer. Futakuchi was surprised to find that he hated it. "I don't talk about that, ok? It's not cool."

"I don't care if you don't talk about it, I saw it. I know it happened." They _were_ going to talk about it. This trip was not going to be a waste.

"I focus on the fun things outside the house, ok?" Terushima looked away, "That's not fun. At all."

Futakuchi slipped his hand into his pocket, then pulled out a piece of paper and held it out. "My phone number and address. If you ever need a place to escape to."

Terushima stared at his hand in shock, silent.

"Take it." Futakuchi glared at his soulmate.

Terushima looked up at him, confusion and insecurity swimming in his eyes. Futakuchi hated it. Finally, Terushima spoke, "You came for that reason? To protect me?"

"You looked like you could use some help." Futakuchi tried to think of a way to make the situation lighter, to crack a joke, but couldn't come up with anything. Abuse just wasn't funny.

"I don't need protection." His soulmate was glaring, now.

"You just going to keep acting like a human shield? Like a hunk of meet that your dad can hit without any consequences?"

"I can take it."

"Just because you can doesn't mean you should, idiot. What if he gets in a good hit and you can't play? What are you going to do then?"

Terushima looked off to the side, every muscle tense. "I can't leave my mom."

"Then bring her, too, if need be." His parents hadn't talked about that, but he was sure they wouldn't mind.

Terushima stared at him, considering. "I can't leave my team, either."

"I'm just in the next town over. It'll be a longer commute, but it's possible."

Terushima's hand rose and gently took the paper. "This doesn't mean anything. Just that I'll consider it if things get worse."

"Of course." Stubborn idiot. Futakuchi let his own hand drop. He couldn't force the guy to do anything. He knew that, but it was still frustrating. His soulmate hadn't even bothered to argue that the hit had been a one-time thing, which meant it was happening often. It was happening often and there was nothing more Futakuchi could do about it. Well, he could call the police, but there was no way to prove soulmate memories, which meant there was nothing the police would be able to do unless his soulmate and mother cooperated, which they probably wouldn't, or else they would have gone to the police already.

Futakuchi scowled in annoyance at the whole situation.

Terushima was fiddling with one of his earrings, mouth twisted down in thought. Finally his eyes connected with Futakuchi's once more. "We should do something fun together. I can't do dinner tonight, though. But tomorrow I could…. Meet me here at five?"

Futakuchi blinked at the abrupt topic change. "You want to have dinner?"

"Yeah." His soulmate gave him a blinding grin, "We should get to know each other, right?"

"I.. suppose we should do something like that." He really had just wanted to help Terushima, but now that they'd met it seemed stupid to ignore each other.

"Awesome. And I'm going to text you. A lot." Futakuchi swallowed. That grin should be illegal. There was this sharp edge of mischief in his eyes and in the twist of his lips, and it made him want to do entirely inappropriate things for a first-time meeting.

He narrowed his eyes, "I'm blocking you if you annoy me."

"Then I'll just show up at your door." Yuuji was stepping closer again. Stepping closer and looking up at him with those eyes. Those eyes that were determined to do something.

The next thing Futakuchi knew, Yuuji's lips were slanting against his, and his world felt like it was on fire.

Then Yuuji was back where he had been before, a few steps away and mischievous grin in place. "We should definitely do more of that tomorrow. See you around, Kenji."

And then he walked around the corner of the gym.

He was gone.

Futakuchi drew in a deep breath. His soulmate certainly was a whirlwind, but he didn't seem to mind Futakuchi's sense of humor or insults. That was nice.

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and pulled it out.

 ** _Unknown Number:_** Hey slanty-hair. Yuuji here. Save my number or I'll bug you forever.

Futakuchi rolled his eyes but did so.

 ** _Kenji:_** Apparently you'll be doing that anyway.

 ** _Yuuji:_** Well, aren't you a lucky guy, then. ;) Did you save my number?

 ** _Kenji:_** YES.

 ** _Yuuji:_** Awesome. See you tomorrow, slanty-hair.

 ** _Kenji:_** I never actually said yes, porcupine.

 ** _Yuuji:_** We both know you'll be there.

Futakuchi shoved his phone into his pocket.

Stupid soulmate.

Stupid soulmate and his ability to get under Futakuchi's skin.

Stupid soulmate and the fact that he was _right_.

* * *

All feedback is much appreciated! Thank you!


	4. Kuroo is an Idiot & Kenma is DONE

Obviously, I own none of the rights to this series. Those belong to Haruichi Furudate, along with whatever publishers, producers, etc., are involved with the series.

* * *

Kuroo sighed as Bokutou called to talk to him _again_ about an amazing memory he'd gotten from his soulmate.

This time the other boy had been eating something with karashi mustard dressing. Kuroo still wasn't sure what was so amazing about the memory, but Bokuto was ecstatic about it. Apparently he found it adorable.

Kuroo was happy for his friend. He _was._

It was just… hard.

Usually people had been receiving memories from their soulmates for as long as they could remember, but he had seen nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

For a while, that was fine. His soulmate could be younger or something… after all, how could he receive memories if his soulmate hadn't been born? But now he was eighteen. An eighteen-year age gap wasn't likely. Possible, but not likely.

No, it was far more likely that his soulmate was older and had died young. It was rare, but it happened. It happened more often than eighteen-year age gaps between soulmates.

And he was… coming to terms with that.

He was.

And he was trying to be supportive for his friends, now that they were all reaching the age where some would try to find their soulmate so that they could go to college together.

But… it was hard.

He had no one.

Well, no one but Kenma.

Kenma understood.

Against all odds, Kenma had no soulmate either. Well, Kuroo hoped he didn't, and wasn't that a cruel thing to hope for? But Kenma didn't talk about one. It made Kuroo wonder… and sometimes, he really, really wanted to know. Usually when Kenma had just gotten out of the shower after practice, and…

Nope. Not letting his brain go there.

But they'd been neighbors and friends for as long as Kuroo could remember, and Kenma'd never once mentioned his soulmate memories. That had to mean something, right?

Of course, Kuroo hadn't pressed, either. He hated it when people asked him about it, and Kenma didn't even like talking with others, so Kuroo had long ago promised himself that he wouldn't ask Kenma about his lack of soulmate. He would just make sure that Kenma knew he could talk to him if he needed to.

And Kuroo thought he'd achieved that. They certainly talked about everything else.

He sighed.

Kuroo suddenly realized Bokuto wasn't talking anymore.

Shit.

He'd been quiet for too long. "What happened next, Bo?"

"I'm the worst friend."

Aw, fuck, not this again.

"No, you're not, Bo. You're excited. I'm excited for you. It's great that your soulmate likes karashi mustard dressing."

"How can you say that! I'll never call you again. I'll find someone else. Akaashi would listen. I'll call him. I'm sorry!"

He hung up.

Kuroo sighed and hit the redial button.

Straight to voicemail.

Kuroo rolled his eyes in annoyance. Fine, then. He'd leave a message. Hopefully his friend would listen to it. "Listen you demented owl, you're an awesome friend. I'm sorry I wasn't listening completely, that's totally on me, not you, alright? Call me back, ok? I can't stand it when my bro is sad."

Kuroo hung up and tossed his phone down onto his desk. He frowned, leaning back in his chair. What should he do now? Practice wasn't until later, and he'd finished his homework. He should study for college entrance exams, but…. He glanced at his old tv set.

A memory suddenly washed over him. He remembered when he'd gone to the store with Kenma when they were little. He could see the game Kenma was excited for, though he thought it had been lower on the shelf at the time. He'd wanted to get the game next to it, but they'd only had enough money to get one, and Kenma had been waiting on this for months. And then the line had been so freaking long…

Maybe he should play that game? They hadn't played it together in years, but it was good, and he was feeling nostalgic.

He knelt down to dig the system out of the drawer but stopped when his phone pinged on his desk. Kuroo reached backwards to grab it.

A text from Bo. His friend was now talking to Akaashi and everything was fine and Kuroo was the bestest bro ever. He shook his head and tossed his phone back onto his desk.

It buzzed again.

Kuroo sighed and set the controller back in the drawer before reaching back for his phone.

Kenma this time.

He grinned. The setter wanted to come over and play something. Kuroo quickly typed an affirmative reply, then went back to digging out the old game system. They might as well both have fun with it.

Minutes later, just as Kuroo was hooking up the last plug, there was a soft knock on the door and then Kenma's head poking inside.

"You set up that old thing?"

"I was thinking about when we got the games, earlier, and I thought it might be fun to play again." Kuroo grinned and held out the controller to his friend.

Kenma blinked at him. "But the graphics are so bad now." Aw, his look of pure confusion as to why he would want to play a game with bad graphics was just too adorable.

"They weren't then! Come on! It'll be fun. You can be the sorcerer and I'll handle all the close-range stuff for you."

Kenma frowned but took the controller and sat on the edge of the bed. "I wanted to play my PSP."

"But we can't play that together, Kenma cat."

All he received in response was a sigh.

Kuroo grinned and hit the power button.

Dang. The graphics really did feel old now. "Remember when we used to play this every day after dinner?"

A slow blink, "Yeah, we did it so much I've seen it in memories a couple of times."

"Me too!" Kuroo pressed start, "Though I was sitting on the bed, then, so some things do change."

Kuroo picked the warrior character, then turned to Kenma, wondering why he hadn't already selected the sorcerer.

Kenma was staring at him. "I've always sat on the bed, Kuro."

Kuroo blinked. "Well, sure, you do now, but I remember when you didn't sometimes."

"You remember sitting on the bed?" Kenma's head cocked to the side, then suddenly his eyes narrowed. He set the controller down.

Kuroo frowned. Kenma rarely _willingly_ set down his games. Even ones with bad graphics. He thought back over what he'd said. Nope. Didn't see anything to warrant this reaction. Cautiously, he repeated it. "Yeah… I remember sitting on the bed while we played."

"You've never done that, Kuro." Kenma's eyes were unnervingly focused. Kuroo really wasn't sure what was going on. "You always sit on the floor and let me have the bed."

Why the hell was Kenma making such a big deal out of this? "What does it matter where we used to sit? Let's just play the game."

He could still feel Kenma's eyes on the back of his head. When his friend next spoke, his voice was carefully nonchalant. "Have you had a soulmate memory recently?"

Kuroo went rigid. He'd never—they'd never… Why now of all times? "No. You've… you've never asked about that before." All this time… he thought Kenma had known. Known that Kuroo didn't have one, and that was why he never brought it up. Shit. He did not want to deal with this today. Not after the mess with Bo. But Kenma deserved honesty. "I don't have one. I thought you knew."

"You…" Kenma's voice was confused. It was understandable. Everyone had a soulmate. Everyone but Kuroo. Darn it, no. He had been doing better about this. He wasn't going to break down. It was just… first Bo, today, and now Kenma. Kenma! After all this time! Kuroo didn't dare turn his head to look at his friend. He didn't want to see the pity.

"Baka."

Kuroo's head whipped around to stare at him. Kenma was giving him a _very_ disappointed look. "You're a real idiot, you know that?"

"What the heck?!" That was not the reaction he was supposed to get! Sure, he didn't want pity, but some sort of understanding would be nice! Not just calling him an idiot!

"I have always sat on the bed, Kuro."

And this again?! "Why are you changing the topic?! And yeah, now you do, but I remember sitting on the bed sometimes when we were younger!"

"Baaakaaa." Kenma sighed. "I'm not changing the topic. It's the same one. You remember that because you're seeing _my_ memories of when we were playing games."

….

What?

Because…. Because they were _Kenma's_?! His memories... his mind flashed back to the one he'd had this morning. The one where he felt like the shelf had been higher than he thought but dismissed it as his kid depth-perception being different. Had it been taller than he'd originally thought because the memory had been Kenma's? Kenma's, and not his?

No.

No, he would have realized it by now if that was the case? Kenma was with him a lot, sure, but they weren't _always_ together.

"Kenma, you can't be serious. Please don't joke about this." His heart couldn't take that.

Kenma groaned. "Why are you so dumb. Why. I thought you knew, but just didn't want to talk about it for whatever reason. Everyone makes a big deal out of soulmates, but we didn't, and I was ok with that. It was nice. But now you're telling me that you didn't even realize it." His eyes were closed with frustration. Kenma… didn't _look_ like he was trying to joke.

Kuroo stared at his friend. Kenma… was serious.

Another sigh. "Kuro, don't you remember things we've done randomly? Just like everyone else's soulmate memories are random?"

"I get nostalgic sometimes, that's all."

Kenma's eye twitched. "And do you ever see me in those memories? Or see yourself?"

"People remember things differently… and I've only ever seen myself a couple times… I thought it was weird, but…" Kuroo shrugged. "Memories do weird things."

"My soulmate is an idiot."

Kuroo's heart clenched. He never… he never thought he'd hear the words 'my soulmate' directed at him. "Kenma… this isn't a joke? You see my memories?"

"Yes." Kenma glared at him.

Kuroo was still in shock.

Kenma thought Kuroo was his soulmate.

Kuroo's mind raced, trying to come up with a single memory that would contradict what Kenma was saying, but he couldn't. Things just kept coming to mind that he'd discarded at the time, but now made _so much sense._ Like the constant feeling as if he was too short in his memories. Like why he remembered enjoying eating apple pie one time when he _always_ gave Kenma his slice whenever it was offered to him. Or when he remembered watching a scary movie that he could've sworn he'd never seen, but he knew Kenma had.

"When we first touched, we would've been too young to know what was going on. We probably thought the warmth or whatever was weird but forgot about it after that." Kenma sighed, "Why do you think two antisocial kids like us were able to become friends so quickly, Kuro? We must have felt _something_ to open up to each other like that."

"I…" Kuroo swallowed, his eyes fixed on his best friend's face. "You're…" He wanted to pinch himself this had to be a dream. He'd lived in this soulmate-less reality for so long….

"We're soulmates, Kuro."

He wasn't crying.

He wasn't.

"Gomen." Kenma's voice was softer, now. Sad. Kenma should never sound sad. "I should've brought it up sooner. I know you're dense sometimes, but I didn't realize you were going through… through this, I guess." Kenma bit his lip, Kuroo's eyes did _not_ focus on his best friend's mouth. His soulmate's mouth? He let out a strangled groan. This was too confusing.

Kenma raised an eyebrow, but kept going, "When I heard people mention that you didn't have one, I figured you just didn't want people to know about us. Which I was ok with." He shrugged, "I'm glad you're my soulmate, but you attract a lot of attention, you know."

Kenma had thought Kuroo didn't want to acknowledge him?! "No! No, Kenma, if I'd known, I would've… I would've told everyone! Or talked to you about it, at least! I would never just… lie like that." His eyes widened. Kenma had said he was ok with that. Shit. "Unless you don't want people to know?" Wait. Kenma had said he _was_ ok with that. Past tense. "Or do you not feel that way now? Shit Kenma, I've been hurting you all this time and I didn't even fucking know."

Kuroo broke off as Kenma moved suddenly toward him, placing both hands on his shoulders. "Kuroo, shut up. I brought it up today because I'd been thinking about asking you to tell people, but I really have been fine." He wrinkled his nose, "Too many girls are flirting with you now that we're older and they think you're unattached. It's annoying."

Kuroo blinked. Kenma was… jealous? He brought his hands up to rest on Kenma's waist, a slow smirk spreading. "We can tell whoever you want, Kenma-cat."

Tell people. About his soulmate. About Kenma being his soulmate. That was going to take some getting used to. But he would do anything for Kenma. He'd always been willing to do anything for Kenma.

Kenma's eyes were wide. "Kuro…" Kuroo's mouth went dry. Kenma should not be allowed to sound like that, all breathy and, and… desperate? Was that what that noise meant?

Wait. Was that a blush? He eyed the tint of red, watching it spread across Kenma's cheek as he fidgeted between Kuroo's hands.

Oh, it so was. He pulled Kenma close enough that their chests were almost touching.

The red deepened.

Kuroo's smirk widened. There was no way Kenma's feelings were just platonic. And as for his own… well, now he didn't have to wonder if Kenma was taken by some future soulmate.

And maybe he could actually entertain some of those thoughts about post-shower Kenma without feeling guilty.

But first… he needed to know. Needed to make sure. One of his hands reached up, slowly tracing the curve of Kenma's cheek before resting in the crook of his neck, fingers tangling in his soft hair. Kenma's breath hitched. His pupils dilated.

Those were certainly good signs. "Can I kiss you, Kenma?"

Kenma let out a soft laugh, "Kuro, I honestly thought you'd never ask."

Well. That wouldn't do. Kuroo bent down, tilting his head slightly as their lips met. It was soft, tender, sweet.

Despite their years of fumbling, his own years of ignorance, it was somehow perfect.

He leaned back, not wanting to push it too far, still wondering if this was really a crazy dream.

Yet, at the same time…. He wasn't really that surprised.

Kenma was looking up at him, his expression content. The younger boy, his soulmate, set his head against Kuroo's chest. Kuroo wrapped his arms around him.

No, he couldn't be completely surprised.

After all, he'd always loved Kenma.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed the newest piece of my soulmate au! Please leave reviews and such! I really appreciate all comments I get.


End file.
